


sleep, pretty darling

by katebishops



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katebishops/pseuds/katebishops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a late night at the SSR, all Peggy wants to do is go to bed - until she hears Angie knocking on her door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleep, pretty darling

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Beatles' song "Golden Slumbers". And yes, I know it's anachronistic but that's what fic is for, okay?

Miss Fry was going to give her a heart attack one day, Peggy was sure. The way she kept popping up behind her whenever she snuck in after a late night at the SSR made her pulse race every time, surely that couldn’t be good for it.

“Another late night at the telephone office, dear?” asked Miss Fry suspiciously. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she clearly didn’t think Peggy actually had a job that most would consider respectable. Not that Miss Fry thought women having jobs was very respectable at all, but some were more acceptable than others.

“You know how it is; those phones just won’t stop ringing!” Peggy responded with a tight smile. She tried to inch her way around the landlady, but she wouldn’t budge.

“ _I’ve_ never heard of anyone decent calling past nine in the evening.” She said with a haughty look.

“Yes, well, I’m actually very tired…if you wouldn’t mind?” Once again, Peggy tried to squeeze past Miss Fry. Luckily she was allowed to this time. She walked up the stairs to her room, but not before hearing the old woman mutter to herself about keeping a closer eye on “that English one”. It was hardly the first time she suspected Peggy of bringing a man up past the first floor, even if she had only done it once (and to be fair, Howard was completely unexpected).

When she got to her room, all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. The bedside clock announced that it was nearly three in the morning. Peggy forced herself to go to the bathroom, remove her makeup, brush her teeth, and put on a nightgown. She had slept in suits before and it was anything but comfortable. Finally, she curled up under the blankets only to hear soft knocking at her door. She tried not to groan. If it was Miss Fry…

“Hey, English, you in here?”

Angie certainly was better than the uptight landlady, but God himself could have been at that door and Peggy wouldn’t want to answer it. Her feet hurt and her muscles ached and she was exhausted. She considered faking sleep – it was hardly rude to not answer the door at 2:47 am – but something inside of her compelled her to drag herself out of bed and open the door.

Angie was standing outside, hand poised to knock again. She was wearing a light pink nightgown and had a nervous look on her face.

“Angie, do you have any idea what the time is?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry for waking you up – if you were even asleep, I’m never sure with you – but I just,” she abruptly cut herself off. Peggy looked at her more closely and noticed the deep circles under her eyes and the slight redness in them, as if she had been crying.

“Angie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, really, it’s just sometimes I get nightmares and I never really like to be alone after them, so I was wondering if…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll go.” She turned around and started heading back to her own apartment.

Peggy sighed. She was also too well acquainted with nightmares. Although she was mostly on the tactical and planning side of things during the war, it was still a war and she did see some things she would have rather forgotten. Sometimes she woke up, thinking HYDRA was still alive and well and all their work during the war had been for nothing. Other times it was about the men she had killed. She really didn’t like to think about that, even if they were HYDRA agents. Occasionally she heard Steve’s voice in her dreams, telling her that he still didn’t know how to dance. No matter what it was, she could certainly relate to the unpleasantness of nightmares.

“Angie, come back. I wasn’t asleep and even if I was, I’m awake now. There’s no point in you going back to your apartment.” Angie turned around and gave a shy smile. “Come on, now,” Peggy said. “Get in here, we’ll play cards.”

* * *

 

An hour later, the two women were about to fall asleep in their chairs. They had been playing poker, betting food to sneak out of the dining hall for each other at dinnertime. So far Angie owed Peggy some roasted chicken and three rolls. Peggy didn’t owe her friend anything, because one of the first things she had learned as a woman in the war was to keep a straight face. Angie, unfortunately for her, had a rather obvious tell of picking at her fingernails.

“I’m not even supposed to know how to play this,” she had confessed to the agent earlier in the game. She had leaned over conspiratorially and Peggy had tried not to notice how nice she smelled. “My pa didn’t think women should know poker, but my older sister learned from her boyfriend and then she taught me.”

Peggy had smiled and nodded. “My father was the same way,” she told her friend. “Luckily, my mum has never given a damn about what's ladylike or not. I think it’s his favorite thing about her, even if he pretends to get frustrated with it. I think he’s just upset that he always loses to her.” Angie had laughed, and Peggy couldn’t help but grin back. _Her smile is infectious,_ she had thought to herself. _And beautiful._

Now, at almost four in the morning, the two women couldn’t go on any longer. Angie let out a huge yawn, stretched, and then stood up. “Well, thanks for this,” she said. “I should probably get back to my bed and try to sleep. I have to be at the diner at eight o’clock.”

Peggy was suddenly reluctant to have her leave. She forgot how nice it was to have a friend who was also a woman. She felt a pang of grief over Colleen. And while Howard and Edwin and the Howling Commandos were perfectly nice friends, with the exception of certain situations, there certainly was a difference between spending time with men and spending time with another woman.

“Are you going to be able to fall asleep?” she asked.

“Oh, we’ll see,” Angie replied. “Usually I can after a while, and this really helped. But this one was pretty bad, so I’m not sure.”

“You could always stay here until you do,” Peggy said. “I’m going to have to get up at the same time as you if you’re worried about being late to work.”

Angie raised an eyebrow. “If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am,” she said. “The bed may not be the largest but we can fit with a little adjusting. I just hope you don’t steal all of the covers.”

Peggy crawled into bed and lay down on her side. Angie then followed her, lying on her stomach and wriggling a little to try and get comfortable. They lay there in silence for a few minutes. Peggy felt her eyelids beginning to droop.

“My brother was drafted,” Angie announced suddenly. “Back in ’44.”

Peggy forced her eyes open. She could tell this was important to Angie, as if she didn’t talk about it a lot, and she would not fall asleep in the middle of it.

Angie continued on. “He was in the Pacific, actually. Flying airplanes, shooting enemies, all that stuff. I remember when we found out Germany surrendered, my ma cried because she thought that meant Japan would immediately too. She was so sure that he’d be home within the month. Didn’t think that the war would drag on over there.” She shifted a little, and Peggy put her hand on Angie’s.

“We had a bunch of neighbors who were just over the moon, because their sons and brothers and fathers were coming home from Europe. But not Tom. He was still on those godforsaken islands.” She paused there, as if that was the end of it.

Peggy knew she shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t help herself. “Your brother, did he…?”

Angie gave a choked laugh. “That’s the thing. Tom’s alive. He came back in August of ’45, he doesn’t have any debilitating injuries or anything from the war. But I still get nightmares. Nightmares that the war really didn’t end, and this time he doesn’t come back alright. It’s silly, right? Worrying about my brother dying in combat after the war is over?”

“I don’t think it’s silly,” Peggy replied quickly. “I think it’s perfectly understandable.”

Angie turned her head and gazed at her. “You lost someone, didn’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Peggy sighed. “Yes.”

“Brother?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Well,” Peggy said. “That’s where it gets complicated. He was…we really only shared one kiss. He was never officially my anything, nor I his. But…” she trailed off. Angie nodded understandingly and squeezed Peggy’s hand comfortingly.

“He still meant a lot to you. I get it.” She rubbed her thumb across Peggy’s hand. “Would he have been your fella if he came home?”

Peggy had been gazing at the ceiling, but then turned her head to face Angie. “I guess we’ll never know for sure.”

Angie gave a short snort of laughter. “English, any man would be crazy to give up a chance to be yours. I’m sure he would’ve gladly been with you after the war. Hell, if _I_ had been a soldier, I sure woulda fought to get home to you. I know he did, too.”

There was a short pause. “You as a soldier,” Peggy said. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Angie laughed, but Peggy felt uncomfortable. Suddenly all she could picture was Angie in an army dress uniform, lying on the table Phillips had held meetings at while she herself was kneeling in front of her, tongue completely occupied. She rubbed her legs together awkwardly, trying to dispel the wave of heat she felt.

“You alright there, English?” Angie asked with a smile in her voice.

“Just wonderful,” she said, hoping her voice sounded normal and not at all breathless. She could feel a flush creeping up on her face.

Angie just laughed. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Peggy asked, trying desperately to get herself under control. She had always appreciated the way anyone looked in an army uniform, from Private Lorraine’s slim waist clad in brown to Steve’s newly broad shoulders filling one out, but she had usually been able to keep any fantasies under control.

Angie looked smug. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s happening with you right now.” Peggy gulped.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.”

“You know exactly what I mean, and I know you know because I’ve been having the same problem myself.”

Her eyes drilled into Peggy’s. Slowly, oh so slowly, she moved her hand away from Peggy’s and towards the hem of Peggy’s nightgown. When she reached it, she pulled it up and started sliding her fingers across Peggy’s underwear, right over her crotch. Peggy groaned.

“You too?” she asked. “And you never said anything?”

“How was I supposed to know about you, English, you’re always so damn secretive! I didn’t know you felt the same until this very moment.” She began to rub harder. Peggy bit back a moan.

“God, Angie,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’re killing me here, stop teasing.” Angie smirked and moved her fingers up, only to dip back down – this time under Peggy’s underwear. She began rubbing her clit in earnest.

“Oh, god,” Peggy breathed. “Can you just – don’t you dare stop. _God,_ Angie.” The waitress changed her hand’s position, so the thumb was on the clit rather than her fingers. She then used her pointer finger to tease at Peggy’s wet hole. 

“Come on, English, I want to hear you,” she whispered in her ear. Peggy let out a loud moan and was rewarded with Angie pushing two fingers inside of her. She couldn’t stop the noise that came out of her mouth at that sensation. Angie laughed.

“Not too loud, now,” she chastised softly. “We don’t want Miss Fry thinking there’s a man up here.” She kept her fingers steadily stroking inside Peggy. She kept this up for several minutes until Peggy began to whine and press back against her.

“Come on, come _on_ ,” she complained. “Harder, Angie, please, I need more.”

Angie began moving her fingers in and out at a fast tempo, adding a third one to the mix and keeping a steady assault on Peggy’s clit. At the same time, she moved her other hand over and began massaging Peggy’s breast through the nightgown. She leaned her face over and their lips met in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. It was perfect. Their mouths were open, tongues winding around each other almost lazily. Peggy knew it wouldn’t take long now, she could feel the delicious pressure building up inside of her. Finally, Angie pressed especially hard with her thumb, and she was gone. She vaguely recalled shouting Angie’s name, but was too caught up in her ecstasy to care.

“Shhh,” Angie whispered quietly. “Don’t wanna wake anyone.” Peggy groaned, her limbs weak as a kitten’s. After a minute, she shimmied out of her damp underwear and kicked it to the end of the bed.

“Shall I return the favor?” she said quietly, with a grin on her face. Angie gave her another breathtaking smile.

“I hate to admit it, English, but I actually do have to sleep. And I think I can, after all of that.”

“But aren’t you – ”

“Tonight,” she replied, putting her finger over Peggy’s lips. She immediately began to lick, tasting herself on Angie. Angie’s pupils became even wider at that. “Don’t you try to tempt me, Peggy. You come home from the phone company at a decent hour tonight, and you can return the favor and then some.”

Peggy smiled a little dopily. “Okay,” she said, already feeling herself drifting off. Angie’s hand stroked her hair. “Oh, and don’t forget,” she quickly added when she could feel herself on the edge of sleep. “You still owe me chicken and rolls.”

She was asleep before she could hear Angie’s whispered response. “I’m sure we can come up with stuff that’s better than food to gamble with from now on.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first forray into Agent Carter fic! Please let me know what you think (especially regarding characterization of Angie! I'm still not sure if I got that right).


End file.
